Gold Streak (or White)
by Erika-The-Unicorn
Summary: White was the only color she had known, besides the red of her eyes that was. Until she struck gold.


White.

It was a color that she had known for so long. Was it even a color anymore?

White walls. White floors. White roof. White furniture. White. Like the color of her hair. Like the color of her clothes. Like the color of her skin. The only thing refusing to give in to the color was her pupils. Red as they were. They maintained the rebellious color in the sea of white. It was her only salvation.

There was only one mirror, lined with white, and even white in tint – or perhaps she had grown so accustomed to the color she imagined it – and in her reflection she would stare at the red. Red. The word seemed so foreign on her tongue. White rolled off it a lot easier. Her tongue. A mix of the color of her eyes and the ever-consuming white. Pink. She enjoyed looking in her mouth as well. It held a color other than white, besides her teeth, that were forced to be maintained the ghostly white they were.

She had no salvation from it. Even the men and women who came in wore white. White coats, white pants, white shoes, white gloves, white masks the covered their faces, and white hats. Everything was a clean, holy white, yet she felt so filthy in it. She didn't like the color anymore, but it was all she ever got. It was so cold, the white. It mocked and haunted her. Even in the dark it was white. The dark seemed worse with the white. She had never feared the dark, not until the white began getting to her.

Her brain slowly began to be enveloped in the white. She hardly thought anymore. Just made the mechanical movements her body made on routine. Everyday, she felt it; she felt her mind slipping more and more.

On days when she had more free will than others, she would dare to glance out her small window, of the white door, to the white hall way. Every once in a while there was the crazed screams and rants. Others, declared murder on the men and women who ran the facility. Her mind swirled at the thought of killing someone. The anguished cries and pleas to be spared, the satisfying feeling of their thick blood run along her fingers, their red blood, red like her eyes. Freed from the white. She felt dizzy. It seemed so welcoming, so delighting. Perhaps that was why she was here in the first place. What normal person would dream, or even think of murder being satisfying, who would enjoy wanting to end someone's life, who would take pleasure in seeing someone's heart stop?

No. It proved she wasn't normal. That was why she was here. She was with other people who weren't normal. But then again, did normal even exist?

She sat on the white padded floor, now, remembering when she had shared this room with another sick, twisted soul. She remembered his silver hair and his red eyes. They were so alike, weren't they? They looked it too. Blood family does tend to look alike. His name faded from her mind slowly. What was it again? Was it hidden under all the layers of dust, in the shadows of her memory? Or had it disappeared all together? What was it, what was it? She knew it contained a D. She hadn't spoken in so long, language seemed to be lacking in her. It contained an E, no? She wasn't sure how she remembered any letters at all. An L too, right? Was there anything else? Oh yes. Another L. She sounded the name in her head. Dell. For the life of her she couldn't remember his surname. Speaking of names, did she remember her own? Perhaps, perhaps not.

She was raking through her fleeting memory for her name, when she heard the door open and a man in white come in. Another color followed him. She blinked. She forgot the name of the color, but it was different from white. The one who donned the odd color was a frail girl, whose hair and eyes matched. She looked terrified. Her eyes wide and her body shaking. There was even the occasional blotch of faded red on her. She was in white clothing too.

The mask turned its attention to the girl already occupying the room. It made a sound similar to the clearing of a throat. Then it spoke.

"Yowane Haku," Whose name was that? Hers? "I hereby declare Akita Neru-" It turned to the shaken girl "who is new to this… _institute _as an occupant of your room, alongside yourself." With that, the mask walked through the white door frame, locking the white door securely from the outside.

Their eyes locked. Suddenly, Haku, remembered what color the other girl's eyes were. Gold. She hadn't seen the color in so long. In any other setting it would've been nice. Although it was still comforting to Haku to see another color. She almost smiled, but her lips strained at the ancient action. How long had it been since she had smiled? She couldn't even remember how long she had been here. Then again, she didn't know the day nor year. How old was she? She could have lived a millennium and not been aware of it.

She spared a glance to - what was her name again? oh right, _Neru_ – who seemed terrified, and was looking around the room desperately. It reminded her of when she first came here. Oh the nostalgia. Neru seemingly accepted her fate awfully quick, and moved to place herself next to Haku. Her small frame trembled, and her wide eyes stared off into the white nothingness.

Haku wanted to comfort the girl, but she wasn't sure how. She didn't know if she could even speak. Her red eyes shone with pity at the girl. At least she herself had had - … De… Dell, by her side. But this girl was alone, and looked very disturbed. Tentatively and delicately so, Haku reached a hand out and gently pat her head. Neru's eyes widened more – if possible – and she turned her head so sharply at Haku, she could almost hear her bones crack. They held each others gaze as Haku continued to pat her head. Apparently Neru was comfortable with the action because she leaned into Haku, as if seeking some sort of human contact. Poor girl. Haku wasn't human. She was just an empty shell by now.

Haku felt the corners of her lips twitch, and she felt the closest thing to a smile come to her in too long.

Haku had another color besides white and red now. She had gold.

She struck gold, and it struck her.

* * *

**A/N; I got this idea a while ago. Sorry for it being so crappy and kinda short. I've been feeling angsty since my mom died in my arms, y'know... Anyways, I had originally had the idea for Miku and Luka, but then I was like, "Nah. I haven't written any NeruHaku." And Haku's hair was a big plus. c: Although sometimes it's silver or light purple-ish/lilac-ish... Whatever. Also, for the readers of Dancing Shadows, I feel like I can write soon enough... and this story right here has its connections to the plot, so be prepared for that. Hehe... I'm putting almost everyone through hell in that story... Especially Luka and Miku. Anyways. I always had the idea of some insane asylum/rehab thing, but a much scarier and creepier one. Plus, all the white everywhere would eventually drive you madly mad. And yeah, Neru has some blood on her. I'm not sure whether this should stay a one-shot or if I should make another chapter or two. I mean, if you guys want me to continue this, I'll try. '3' I was also thinking whether I should call this "White" or "Gold Streak", and the file is called "White", but then I was like, nah, and changed it to "Gold Streak". Alright, see ya in the next update of _any _of my stories.**


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